


Darlin' Dearest

by robbersrobbery



Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: Alternate Canon, Bisexual Arthur Morgan, Canonical Character Death, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Feel-good, Implied Sexual Content, Kieran lives but ALL other canon deaths happen, arthur gets over mary
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-20
Updated: 2019-03-08
Packaged: 2019-11-01 04:42:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,743
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17860508
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/robbersrobbery/pseuds/robbersrobbery
Summary: The former street thief, Mary-Beth Gaskill, has had major prospects in writing ideal romances-yet never thought a quiet O'Driscoll boy would be most loving thing she'd ever endure.





	1. A Wallflower Through and Through

The awfully loud _thunk_ of a boot hitting partially rotting wood was the first sound Kieran Duffy awoke to. Gaining his newly-awoken composure, he blinked a couple times at the sunlight and looked up to see Dutch Van der Linde standing above him, hands behind his back.

“Wake up, Colm’s boy.” Dutch said, sternly, baring his teeth as he spoke. Kieran slowly got up from the floor of the deteriorating Shady Belle house. He’d been with the Van Der Linde gang for around 3 seasons now; with the colder days of summer starting to kick in now. While he’d been through a lot with the gang, he was still generally on his own and often doing chores out of fear he needed to make up for just simply being associated with Colm O’Driscoll. He had definitely been promoted, as he no longer was forced to sleep outside without a cot. He now had a floor of a house, something that was genuinely good when everything else hurt.

“I’m up, Mister Dutch- I’m n-not in trouble, right?” He stammered as he faced his superior, adjusting his necktie and putting on his hat.

“No, boy, you’re not in trouble.” Dutch put a hand to his forehead in bleak annoyance, softening his words. “Pearson made more coffee than usual for the trip today and we need someone to drink it before it’s stale.” Dutch was usually the last person to talk to Kieran, and actively almost avoided him. It had been debated whether it was cruelty or an inability to let himself integrate the stable boy into the gang- but most would say a mix of both. With Arthur and John already ridden off to Saint Denis, Dutch was just about to leave. The disappearance of Jack had a perk in that it brought the gang closer together, and it was clear that Kieran was finally getting acknowledged.

“I’d be okay with that, thank you Dutch- uh, Sir. Mister.” He offered a weak smile and Dutch walked away instantly, getting onto his horse and speeding away within minutes. Kieran proceeded to walk forward into the camp, watching as the various members kept to themselves and worked on their own. He always did the same whenever he passed by them; eyes forward, mouth shut, and to expect whatever bad comment would be said. Of course a majority were much nicer now, but he wasn’t willing to trust so easily. As he walked to the campfire, he found the pot of aforementioned coffee, now lukewarm and only a mud-covered mug left to drink from. He attempted to clean the mug the best he could with the sleeve of his denim jacket, and poured the blissful drink; thankful he was able to get some. He then walked to one of the sitting logs and looked down as he drank. He took the time to reminisce about Sean, who would have been laughing at him and making his usual jabs; a good person to sit with in the mornings despite the hostility. But Sean was gone, and horses, while good and kind company, could not talk.

He eyed over at Mary-Beth who he’d been awfully sweet on recently and made sure to stare for not more than five seconds. The two of them had absolutely talked more than enough, and it had been simple conversations, really. His bashful stammering and her collective responses back. He knew that she was very aware of his feelings but he could not genuinely tell if she would reciprocate. She was kind and very considerate towards him, but he watched her dance with Arthur at Sean’s arrival party. It was friendly, but, it did admittedly hurt a bit to see. He gave another look at her and she looked up from her book just in time to meet his eyes. He offered a smile and raised his cup at her and she smiled back as well before getting her eyes back down at her book.

Mary-Beth, on the other hand, did like Kieran. She couldn’t bring herself to say it quite as forward as he could, but she always found herself a bit preoccupied with where he was everyday. She hoped nobody noticed when she’d peer out from her tent to watch him wash the horses or when he’d clean around everyone’s camp areas for them. She also got to the point of writing about him. Only small, insignificant passages about how softly he spoke or how flattering he was to her. She couldn’t bring herself to outright confess it though; Karen, Tilly, and especially Miss Grimshaw would never give her any approval towards Kieran and she risked a lowered reputation from the Gang.

This was all it was; a constant cycle of 5 sentence conversations daily and gazes that never broke out of seconds long.

Kieran messed with the mug in his hands and finished off his coffee, thanking Pearson who then made a comment about how he wasn’t even the one who made it. He stood there awkwardly for a bit, making another short gaze at Mary-Beth before continuing on for a day of chores.

* * *

_**EVENING** _

It was in the middle of gathering hay to feed the horses for dinner that the camp became a place of joy. Kieran watched as John, Arthur, Dutch, and little Jack came gallantly into Shady Belle, cheering and yelling words of absolute pride. Abigail was crying her tears of joy and Javier erupted into song and liquor was given to any man available. Kieran was smiling and feeling as much happiness as everyone else but- this joy didn’t belong to him. He was the one that originally saw the Braithwaites come in late in the night and did not even think of what was at hand. Since then, he blamed himself for the abduction of Jack, even if he in no way had a single ounce to do with it. All he could think about is how Arthur and John cleaned up the pain he involuntarily caused Abigail. He watched the multiple star-eyed faces as they sang, drops of beer and whiskey flying in all directions and the guitar ringing out into the night. They eventually just became blurred forms as he drowned out his surroundings and his invasive thinking kicked in.

Almost as a way to calm his mind, a few drinks got downed by the anxious wreck of a man and he continued to stand by Pearson’s wagon. As he stared up into the stars for a good deal of time, Arthur and Karen asked him to join in the fun and he declined, already overwhelmed by the noise and fun. He would never be a Van Der Linde boy, no matter what actions he could take for the gang. The alcohol was making his thoughts rise up worse than before and the memories of Colm’s berating statements and moderate abuse kicked in. It was becoming too much and he stumbled away, passing the gazebo at the edge of camp. He stood at the back of it, looking into the dark forest. He had every opportunity to run and leave and not be involved with a place that still didn’t quite feel like home. He never had a home since his parents died and he was unsure what his definition of it was anymore. He began to take off when he heard a voice to the right.

_“Kieran!”_

Kieran stopped in his tracks, almost even falling into the mud, and looked to see Mary-Beth peering out the side of the gazebo. She stared at him, wide-eyed in the light of a lantern, and gave an expression of worry. He instantly straightened his back and stuttered. “I-I’m sorry. I’m just- Too much to drink.” He started trying to shuffle into the house but she caught up to him. “Please stop walking away. I just want to make sure you’re dandy.”

He gave a loud exhale and looked past her. “I’m fine- I ain’t been drinking this much in a while.” He would have walked away at this point but he decided to just stay a bit longer in the conversation. “Why ain’t you with the camp? Jack’s back.” She laughed a bit and pushed back a few strands of hair behind her ear. “I know he’s back, and Abigail’s kid is a nice one, but I have not much of a reason to celebrate. I don’t talk to her as much as you may think.” She then took his hand and walked him back to the gazebo. “And I was just over there! Only came in to sing for one song. I thought it’d be a good time to write after I got my fun out.” She sat down on a bench and gave a few light pats to the spot next to her which he nervously took. “And it’s a nice night to let my mind kind...of wander.” Mary-Beth's words trailed off and she couldn't keep herself away from looking at his shaking form.

Kieran’s heart was already racing at the contact she gave him and he couldn’t do anything but nod as he listened to her and his hands shook a bit. As he sat down, he tried what he could to calm down and pray in his head the alcohol would wear off soon. Kieran was not much of a drinker, and probably drank the most in his life as soon as he joined the Van Der Linde Gang. In the past, it always kept him nervous and panicked and he’d sleep it off at any given opportunity. “I see.” He mumbled, unsure why she didn’t want to have just as much fun as Karen and Tilly were having. “I’m sorry, Mary-Beth- I’m drunk and I didn’t mean to interrupt-”

He got cut off by a warm laugh from her side and she picked up a piece of parchment from one of the gazebo walls. “You couldn’t have bothered me when I just finished writing. If anything, you gave me a fright!” She lifted her hands up to make the gesture of being spooked and he laughed and smiled, genuinely glad he didn’t do anything that wrong. Mary-Beth proceeded to bring her lantern forward and read a passage from her story.

_'It was in the glow of the moonlight that young Penelope saw him come in on horseback. His steed bucked and the thick black locks she loved so dearly fell into his face. He yelled out gallantly in the warm summer night, “I realize I can’t leave unless you promise you’ll wait for me. I could be fighting in this army for a decade, my love!’ The woman could only run toward him with her arms open. ‘All I can ever dream of is a life with you, Alexander. That summer house in Georgia will be waiting for you, no matter how many years you leave me.’_

Kieran was quiet for a few moments, but spoke excitedly. “That was nice, Mary-Beth. I- I’ve ain’t really known how you can...sorta-” He made gestures with his hands as he spoke. “-Write these people like they’re real.”

Mary-Beth felt herself blush and she instantly folded the paper away, putting it back onto the edge of the wall. “I don’t think it’s talent… I think I just tend to notice how the lovers are in my books I read. There’s always a dashing rogue and a goddess-like woman that loves him- and I know that it ain’t exactly true to real life, but I love it. It’s silly, but it gives me hope.” She noticed that Kieran’s eyes grew a bit saddened and she continued talking. “But- when we get you to read you can see what I mean! Romance isn’t a man’s genre but it might be all we have around here for now! I promise you, Kieran, the camp is going to help you.”

Kieran leaned in and knew Mary-Beth was being honest and kind, and he understood that she would most likely be the only one tolerant enough to teach him to see the world as beautifully as she does. It felt like bliss right now in the air between them, but the music dying down and the addition of the alcohol was still telling him to leave and get out of this place for the good sake of everyone. He started to get up again and nearly walked out but felt a soft, firm grip on his wrist. “I should leave.” He said very softly, but did not struggle to get away.

“I don’t want you to. I know you’re scared of everyone. But, I think the hurting days are over. You went fishing with Arthur recently, right? He’s becoming more welcoming.” She was starting to feel hints of worry in her chest.

Kieran couldn’t get himself away from that one image of Arthur and Mary-Beth dancing months ago. “He’s got life better than me. He and everyone else are better than me.”

She got rid of the grip on his wrist and instead took both of his hands into hers. “Nobody is- Well. Kieran.” She brought their intertwined hands close to her chest. “I don’t want you to say words like that. You’re not what you used to be.”

The former O’Driscoll looked her in the eyes. “What if I never become one of you?” He said in a downcast tone.

“You will.” She gave a genuine smile and averted their eyes towards the quieter party of the camp; members stumbling into beds and the fire glowing in the night. “There’s something I should say now.”

Kieran’s breathing hitched and he unconsciously gripped her hands a bit tighter.

“I was going to talk to Arthur about it in a few days. I know I should have talked to the girls first, but he’s the only one who understands what I’m feeling.” There was a long silence for a while and Kieran’s heart dropped in his chest, as he could only predict the next words. Mary-Beth was going to say what he expected. She loved Arthur and was trusting Kieran enough to tell him first. The darkness of the forest felt more and more comforting with every second that went by. “I...I feel wonderful around you, Kieran. You take time out of these days to talk and don’t ever raise your voice at me when I keep to myself. I know you’ve said things before but I think I’m ready to say that you’ve made me a very happy woman.”

Kieran’s eyes crinkled in joy and he automatically fell into her arms, hugging her.

“Oh!” She said with a bit of a laugh and he pulled away instantly. “Sorry, sorry, sorry Miss Gaskill, sorry I-”

The two of them were interrupted by an unnaturally loud clap of thunder and rain instantly poured around the camp. They both looked at another and looked away again.

“That rain ain’t good.” Kieran stated, laughing incredibly awkwardly and pulling his hat further down on his head.

“It’s probably about time to sleep, isn’t it?” Mary-Beth responded instantly, streaks of red going across her very freckled face.

“I suppose.” Kieran responded back, his forget-me-not blue eyes watching as Mary-Beth picked up her inkwell, writing, and lantern from the area and began to walk out of the gazebo. He then unconsciously then found himself running ahead to give her a hand in walking down the steps. She reacted to the kind gesture with a very sincere smile and a small wave. “Goodnight, Kieran,” she said before stepping through the mud to get to her tent.

“Goodnight, Mary-Beth,” he replied, a warmth spreading throughout his heart as he walked into the house for a good night’s rest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I appreciate all your time in reading this! This is obviously just a simple turn of events in which Mary Beth talks to Kieran before his disappearance at the party in Chapter 4. The following fanfic chapters have some really interesting content coming up and I'm so happy to share it with you!


	2. Ain't Enough Money in the World

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kieran is convinced to go to his first town visit since joining the Van der Linde Gang and offers a kind request to Mary-Beth

Mary-Beth would have never expected that her actions the previous night quite literally saved Kieran's life. Had she not been right next to him, he would have traveled into the forest drunkenly and gotten found by his former gang. She slept surprisingly well in the night, even with the rainstorm and with the severely strong scent of Karen’s own alcoholic escapades to her left. Her wrists and chest were left warm when she had nothing but thoughts of Kieran swimming in her mind before bed, and she unknowingly had a bit of a smile on her face as she dozed off. The summer bliss; constant aroma of honeysuckle and cotton wind clinging to her eyelashes, was now made better by the confidence in her feelings.

And as she lay onto the ground of the world, it was as if her own dark past was reprieved for one single second.

The O'Driscolls were beginning to branch out of the Valentine area. Ever since Dutch moved camp twice, the rival group had major trouble finding the Van Der Linde Gang. At first, the disappearance of Kieran was speculated as him dying in the cold wilderness; but that changed soon after. When Kieran brought Arthur and the others to the assumed location of Colm, a surviving O'Driscoll recognized his former member and now knew he worked with the gang. The information was relayed to Colm in days following, and Colm now had a price on Dutch's head for new reasons. And now that the O'Driscolls were in Lemoyne, Kieran would have been captured with any unthought move.

The man in question was already awake, trying to do laundry early in the morning before everyone else. His clothes, which were always muddy and grimy from chores and farmwork, made the washwater as dark as imagined. He awkwardly stood in nothing but an undershirt and long-johns, shivering in the early hour cold.

Kieran’s own thoughts on the previous night were still tumbling at a fast pace. He was still in utter disbelief of Mary-Beth’s confession. Every time his mind went over those words, his under-average eyelashes fluttered and he found his scarred fingers touching his neck out of habit. The man actually had very rare dealings with love. His parents loved another a lot, and it was a good example for him to go off of- yet they were in his life for so little time that his images of their peachier days started fading. In his old town, before the outlaw days, a few kind girls came and went, but their commitment was as short as his stay in one place.

Mary-Beth was the first time Kieran had a reason to _stay._

After an ample time of working on his task, he heard a voice from the tent nearest. “Hosea? You makin’ that much noise?” A voice rang out. It was Javier, clearly awake. Kieran chose not to reply and scrubbed his clothes with a tattered brush faster.

“Answer me, you smartass.”

Kieran took his laundry out and hung it up automatically, finally giving an answer. “I-It's just me, Kieran.” He said, quietly enough to not wake the others.

After a significant amount of shuffling noises, Javier got up out of his tent and faced Kieran. “God, _hombre triste,_ you already lost the outfit I lent you?”

Javier stood in front of the man, wrapped tightly in a wool blanket, eyes full of sleep, and hair that stuck out at around 3 odd angles. When Kieran was established as a new unofficial gang member, the only member to offer any sort of new clothing was Javier, who gave him a very old riding outfit for the summer, and a denim coat still a size too big on him. Kieran’s original outfit from the O’Driscolls was stashed away, because of the significant animosity he got from wearing it.  
  
Kieran squinted his eyes a bit at Javier and stood his ground. “No.” He said in a direct tone, gesturing Javier to come closer and pointing out the sopping wet denim jacket on the makeshift clothesline. He offered a nervous smile. “I’d be colder than a bear den.”  
  
Javier gave a noise of amusement and gave a simple nod, ducking his head back into his tent and lighting a newly-rolled cigarette up. Like most of the other camp members, he had brief conversations with the former O’Driscoll. He was not as initially horrible as most of the gang was, but he certainly did not trust Kieran whatsoever, and still didn’t understand Arthur’s intentions in keeping him around. Another series of loud shuffles were heard, and it was very apparent that Javier was back into the embrace of his bedroll.  
  
Kieran gave a soft sigh, and his eyes scanned what could be seen in the dark blue of the world. Most of the horses were asleep and none were looking in his direction quite yet, as they recognized him as his sole feeder now. He noted that there were a few flowers coated in last night’s dew, and he picked a few, shoving them into the lapel of his denim jacket for a nice scent. His mind became full of the image of Mary-Beth’s freckled smile, and he remembered heaven once again.

* * *

 ****  
_**Noon** _****  
****  
Mary-Beth finished styling her hair, using a hairpin to pull back her brown, escapist, tufts into something nice for the day. She proceeded give a smile at the mirror and made coy eyes at her reflection, adjusting a bone brooch over her creme blouse. She had thought about it ever since she woke up, but she had a bit of a plan to get Kieran out of the camp for a bit. She was a woman to take directive often, and it stemmed from her past as a self-sufficient thief- but if she talked Hosea sweetly enough, her plan had no chance to fail.  
  
Primping her hair a final time, she stuck her tongue out at the Mary-Beth in the mirror and hitched her boots on, instantly climbing up the house stairs over to Hosea’s seat.  
  
The oldest camp member looked up from the small sheet of parchment he was writing an upcoming plan on, to the bustling form of Mary-Beth. She put her hands behind her back and smiled at him very sweetly. “Hosea, could I discuss something with you?” She stated, not losing her grip on this.  
  
Hosea cocked a silver eyebrow up at her. “You have my ear, Miss Gaskill.” He responded slowly.  
  
She looked over the balcony with him at the form of Kieran, who was brushing Branwen in small motions. “I know we have still been...lax on letting Kieran have more of a role in the Van der Lindes. But he has revealed to me that he’s-” She watched Hosea begin to lose interest a bit, and he brought a coffee cup to his mouth, drinking slowly. “Illiterate.” She put her hands together and softened her lip into a gentle pout. “I wanted your permission to teach him, and if in turn I could buy you one of those mysteries as a thank you.”  
  
Hosea’s eyes widened a bit, but he did not show any signs of denying her request. “It is...tradition for Dutch or I to teach our boys.” He hesitated on the word ‘boys,’ but it left his wrinkled mouth regardless. “However, if you get him a start before we get to teachin’, that would be swell.” He gestured for her to lean in close and she did, eyes fluttering a bit. “When you get to town; I’ve been stuck on those novels by Jameson Barnes.” He gave her a soft pat on the shoulder and Mary-Beth felt succession in her ways.  
  
“Would I be able to bring Kieran with, then? If he find any material he personally likes?” Mary-Beth offered, swinging her body in elation.  
  
Hosea raised a finger and scolded her, his eyelids growing heavy. “I’m only allowing it because you’re being polite, Miss Gaskill. But once. We can’t have the boy out too often or risk him running back to O’Driscoll himself. He could do with some outside world, though.” They both looked over to Kieran across the camp again, seeing him press his head to Branwen’s and closing his eyes, clearly tranquill.  
  
They both gave a knowing look at another and Mary-Beth took off, her heeled boots _pitter-patter_ ing down the old wooden stairs and she rushed out of the house, grabbing her satchel and heading for Kieran. He jumped a bit when he felt the wind of her skirt against his shins but his eyes instantly crinkled into a friendly gaze when he saw who stood in front of him. Branwen gave a triumphant whinny. “Well, howdy.” He said, nodding his head at his new daily dose of sunshine.  
  
“I’m taking you into Rhodes.” She said proudly, holding up her satchel and giving it a little shake. Kieran’s eyebrows raised up and he got close to her, voice low. “Do you think the camp would be okay with that?” He questioned, a bit cautious. “Mary-Beth, if O’Driscolls catch me, I’ll be a _dead man_ .” He put up his hands in a way of denial and was clearly serious to his words.  
  
She noted his caution and put her gentle hand to his shoulder. “I will not let anything happen to you. It is only a matter of minutes to get to town. And,” she extended her arms, motioning for him to look around them, “-I think a gang stationed in New Hanover is not going near Lemoyne anytime soon.”  
  
Kieran felt a little change of mind but still spoke in a very strict manner. “I- I can stand up for myself, but I ain’t able to explain what Colm would _do_ to me if he see me. Please promise we...end up smart about this?”  
  
Mary-Beth moved her hand from his shoulder to a gentle cup against his cheek, which caused Kieran to melt a little inside. “I get scared of myself sometimes,” she started, looking him in the eyes and watching his lip quiver. “But I would do the unthinkable for those I care about.” She moved her hand and put it into a fist, making a cheerful gesture. “To town, huh?”  
  
Kieran took a deep breath and nodded, letting his heart take over his mind just for this moment. He had never been into a new town quite yet since his initial capture. In Clements Point, he did forest scouting to fish or did small walks, but even then, he was monitored and on a set schedule. He took Branwen’s reins off of his station, and let Mary-Beth on first before he got onto his equine comrade as well. “Easy, boy. It’s been a while.” He cooed, the reddened tips of his fingers brushing over the backs of his ears.  
  
Then they were out, Mary-Beth giving instructions to get to the town and keeping a gentle hand on the small of Kieran’s back.  
  
After a few minutes, she changed position, and Mary-Beth held her arms around Kieran a bit tighter as she looked out upon the long spanse of flowering land. She couldn’t keep her mind off of how little she knew about the same man who paid so much attention to her. She fumbled, trying to figure out the best topic to start this ride on, but spoke unconsciously. “Do you have a lot of people in your life, Kieran?” She blurted out, mentally kicking herself in the head for forcing something so risky onto him.  
  
Kieran went quiet for a bit and had to think hard, gripping his reins tighter as they trotted onto the path. “You might laugh, but, we, uh, Duffies- we don’t last long. Pappy joked about that. Most of his people died in that damn Famine.”  
  
Mary-Beth gave a bit of smolder. “Famine?” She questioned.  
  
“Uh, Ireland, right?” He confirmed, keeping eyes forward. ”So he go and tell me ‘don’t make connections too hard, Kieran. You’ll die before introduction end.’” He gave a stern face as he talked, mimicking a rather bad Irish accent. “He was the only surviving member of his family branch, so he come to America, met Mam and there was me.” He slowed the horse’s galloping down, giving himself a chance to talk more. “Them were good people, my parents. I grew up in a camp in the plains at first, but then we took over an abandoned farm with no luck. Pappy just wanted enough money for California.”  
  
Mary Beth freed a hand and adjusted her skirt a bit, the dirt from Branwen’s hooves flying up at her. “Did you ever make it to California?” She asked gently.  
  
Kieran gave a bittersweet laugh and his voice got quieter. “Furthest we got is Colorado. I was only a boy when we enter some new West state. My folks...just get too sick afterwards and the dry weather made they sickness worse. I think I was just becoming a man when it happened.” He then changed his tone to a cheery one. “The government sorta found me. They tell me the only next of kin in America I have is younger cousin Lloyd. He’s in Blackwater. Another real distant cousin of ours is here too, but his name I forgot. Since they both younger, they can’t raise me! My mam had no recorded other family- she were adopted. So I ran to Denver, and worked at stables.”  
  
Kieran watched as the town of Rhodes grew closer and he gave Branwen a soft pat on the head as he got closer to a stop. “I’ll tell you more after we ride back, but I don’t think I have any other living Duffy left in this here country.”  
  
Mary-Beth found herself in awe at his words. Not only was she unaware his past was quite so lonesome, but she found herself remembering having a father she never met and a mother who also died when she was very young. She had to raise herself as a pickpocket and padfoot in the South and it was a rough life. She was glad to finally learn so much, but her heart ached so heavily. “That was very unfair for you to go through, Kieran. The Van Der Lindes are not blood, but we certainly keep…” She struggled on her words as Kieran brought the horse forward and stood it next to a hitch. “...interesting company?”  
  
He got off of Branwen and helped Mary-Beth down, tying the reins up.

The aspiring writer smiled a bit at the sight of Rhodes. She rarely left the camp whatsoever, usually spending her time getting educated on the newest romance novel. The only way she got new books in was through mail. She had a couple small connections out of New York and Duluth who traded new and old titles in the postage, and had found solace that there was a widespread group of women who ghost wrote or had as much of an aspiration as she did. And, actually, she needed to visit the Rhodes post office in case a new book came in. She had only given the Shady Belle address recently, but it was going to certainly make the day nicer than how nice it was already. She liked the little town so far; quiet people and lots of meadow was her type of backdrop  
  
Kieran made eyes for the various stores but could not pinpoint which was the General Store. The writing on the signs he recognized as letters but for the life of him wasn’t connecting what made each store different. “Uh, hey.” He said, embarrassed. “Which one of these is...?”  
  
Mary Beth, who was adjusting her satchel, blinked for a bit and forgot about Kieran’s reading issue just for that moment. “Oh!” She said, sheepishly grinning and pointing him to a building at the north end of town. “That’s it!” She unbuttoned her satchel and gave him a few dollars, placing her hand over his now money-filled one. “Would you be okay on your own in there? Pearson needs a new lighter as well as more coffee.”

  
The man next to her nodded quickly. “Why can’t you go in with me?” He asked, concerned.  
  
She dismissed his concern instantly. “I just have to head to the post office for my own errand. If we do this at the same time, then we’ll be back at camp sooner.”  
  
He smiled and understood, and while he would usually be suspicious of being abandoned, he could genuinely tell that Mary-Beth was being honest and helpful. He made his way for the general store, saying hello to a few passerby.

* * *

  
Mary-Beth walked to the General Store after a bit of time in the Post Office. An unwrapped parcel with two books was in her hands. Funnily enough, one of the two books, while still a romance, had a mystery element within it that Hosea would most likely be unable to notice. She walked up to Kieran who was sitting on the outside bench of the store, bouncing his leg nervously and holding a bag in one hand. He got up and smiled at her, giving her a “wait one second” signal with his hand before reaching into the bag and pulling out something wrapped in a bandana. He spoke calmly. “I hope it’s okay that I got us some here lunch. Pearson’s a good cook, but maybe,” He started breaking away from eye contact and his face turned a light pink. “We could find somewhere, sit, and enjoy- it.”  
  
Mary-Beth gave a loving sigh and leaned in, wrapping her arm around his waist for a brief hug. “Kieran Duffy, you are too kind for a woman like me.” She beamed at him and couldn’t help but laugh just a little at his carnation-colored face.”You did still get Pearson’s requests, right?”  
  
Kieran nodded and opened his hand to give her back the original money she had. She opened her mouth to speak but he made a “shh” gesture at her. “I was going to, Mary-Beth, but I have money in Branwen’s saddlebag. Ain’t a lot, but, enough to spend on you.” His voice got romantic in just small enough of a dose to make the woman on his side lose her ability to talk. She laughed very nervously, one of her hands coming off of the package in her arms to put her money away.  
  
He lead them on over back to Branwen and they both got on, Kieran leading them both out of town and back onto the path. He headed for the path back to camp but then stopped his horse to a halt and looked back at Mary-Beth. “...They can wait for us for a while longer, right?” He said with a laugh, and he proceeded to go off-path, heading for a meadowed area near Bolger Glade.  
  
Mary-Beth’s mind was in a flurry now. She was getting the gist of who Kieran was as a person and admittedly found herself falling more and more enamored with him. He was a gentleman, something unexpected of the previous “savage” viewpoint of the O’Driscolls. He was nervous, but did stand his ground, and was unique in his action. She rested her head against his shoulder blades as he rode them further, closing her eyes gently. She thought of everyone in the camp and the constant comments she got. How Dutch and Micah and Uncle ogled her, the times Sean flirted between her and Karen, and how Arthur, while kind and respectful, had confusing motives. She was just a woman to the camp, someone who was constantly at work and expected to be reserved in her actions, but to Kieran, she was just Mary-Beth. And she was beginning to feel a huge sense of comfort never felt before.  
  
At last, they stopped, and the young outlaws got off of Branwen to walk into a beautiful field. Various flowers and shady trees surrounded the edge of a lake coast and the sun rose high in the air, complimenting the August breeze. Kieran got down slowly into the soft grass, his hand brushing through the various blades right before he got out their lunch from the bag. He unwrapped the bandana to reveal a pile of dates, some salted venison in a cheesecloth, and two cans of pears. He grinned an accomplished smile at his own “date” as he passed her portion to her.  
  
He pulled out a knife and used the blunt side to crack open his can and hers, and suggesting for Mary-Beth to use her own knife as a fork. She gave a soft laugh and jabbed her small blade into a portion of pear, closing her eyes in contentedness at the taste. “Kieran,” she said gently, looking forward. “Thank you.”  
  
He just gave her a very excited look. “Of course!” He said, before eating a pear in the same violent fashion. They were quiet for a while, but nothing about it felt odd or even awkward. They both enjoyed this moment for what it was and sort of became a part of the nature around them. Kieran finally spoke up after another stab into the can of pears. “Why do you write, Mary-Beth?” He offered as means of talking.  
  
She was perplexed at the sudden question but pursed her lips and responded. “It takes me out of this place. I can write about somewhere nicer where the people don’t sleep in damp tents or yell at another everyday. I can feel that things do...get better if I write ‘em as so. Does that make sense?” She looked into his eyes for a bit, and they both couldn’t break away.  
  
Kieran just softened his gaze and felt his heart slow down in a new kind of calmness. “That’s beautiful.” He offered, unable to use his own words as spectacularly as she could.  
  
She got giddy within her mind hearing that and slowly rested her head onto his shoulder. “I can’t wait for the day you can read, Kieran. You’ll see why it makes life so...kind.” She closed her eyes and started to shake a little.  
  
He noticed at once and moved his arm to wrap around her shoulders and bring her close.  
  
Mary-Beth talked in a rush. “I wasn’t a good soul, Kieran. I’ve done bad. I really have.” She opened her eyes again, now looking down. “For you, it comes so easy. But, I’ve hurt people and hurt myself and I don’t know why I can’t forget about who I was.” Her voice became powerless but still had her defiant tone. “I grew up in a world of hurt and only knew to hurt.”  
  
Kieran was getting shaken as well, and not ever being in a situation quite like this before, he did his best to hold his own composure. “I think you ain’t bad. You really ain’t. If you were bad, then you definitely wouldn’t have given me money, or talked me out of walkin’ away yesterday. Or wouldn’t have even-” he took the time to hold her hand and give it a gentle squeeze, “-been with me today.”  
  
Mary-Beth gave a happier sniff and wiped her teary eyes with her arm, before digging into her abandoned lunch. “I don’t know what it’d be like if we never took you in.”  
  
Kieran bit into his salted venison slice and looked at the sky for a moment. “Lonely.” He said, simply, his own head now softly resting upon her own.  
  
With the various tweetings of far-up songbirds, the glimmer of the sun against green land, and the honey shimmers that shone off of Mary-Beth's hair, it was bliss. Kieran hadn't had a moment this relaxing or calm in quite a while. Usually he woke in the morning with some sort of dose of torment or couldn't get the images of all he's lost out of his head. The way that Mary-Beth's cheek brushed against his own was enough motivation to see some sort of future- a word he avoided thinking about. He was so used to redundancy and uniform jobs but, this secret romance, this real love, gave him a new sense of free-will he was entirely unknowing to.  
  
The two of them finished the remains of lunch and began to pack up for camp when they heard voices around one hundred feet away from the meadow. A clear set of Irish accents was made known to the two young admirers, and they exchanged glances at once.  
  
“O’Driscolls.” Mary-Beth and Kieran said in unison as they ran and got onto Branwen without hesitation.  
  
From the horse, they saw around five of the men, the green on them clear as day, heading down the same path they happened to be on.  And an escape was dire since the gang of men were speeding too fast to react logically to. Kieran made a decision to try to head into the grove of Eastern trees, but one of the O’Driscolls caught sight and decided to shadow him out of curiosity. Kieran made a signal to Mary-Beth to be as quiet as possible.  
  
The O’Driscoll yelled profanities at Kieran but gave no semblance of recognizing him. Kieran heard bits and pieces as they sped through the trees but made out something about “new O’Driscoll territory” and what the “two lovers were doing.” He continued to try to shake their pursuer off, Branwen giving noises of discomfort as he nearly ran into a new tree every five seconds. But Kieran and Mary-Beth's hearts stopped as they heard more horses join the chase, and all of the O'Driscolls were on their tail. "Get us to the camp!" She said into his ear quickly and clearly.  
  
Kieran shot back. "I ain't risking everyone else right now. That's our home."  
  
Mary-Beth just closed her eyes and gripped onto Kieran as tight as possible. She had no idea what to do. Kieran had only a pistol on his harness and her only a knife. They were outnumbered by three and any gunshot was a gamble of life and death. She then became petrified as she heard an O'Driscoll claim "Is that Duffy?" She gave Kieran a loud "hurry!" and even pushed her own heel into Branwen, trying to get her to go faster.  
  
The chase went on for minutes and became risky ground as they started to head into the confusing and unknown marshlands. Kieran was currently deep in thought and knew that in order to get them out of this, he had to do something incredibly risky. He gave a noise of uncertainty before looking back at Mary-Beth with teary eyes. "Ride back. Please." Was all he said as he proceeded to jump off of his beloved horse and crumple onto the ground in front of the O'Driscolls.   
  
She was absolutely terrified and took Branwen's reins in horror, watching Kieran's actions in heart-wrenching fear. She understood his plan at once but  was in absolute fear at how this would go. She tried to go towards Kieran to convince him to get back on and try to get them running again, but she watched as the lead O'Driscoll pulled out a shotgun and aimed it at her, prompting her to make a sharp turn and run through the forest. With nothing but her will to survive guiding her, the woman just rode to wherever looked close to home. Kieran gave a smile as he watched her run off, rubbing his scraped wrist as he offered his hands up to the five armed men.

Nothing was more terrifying than the thought that the one person who now made life easier to live was now in danger. Mary-Beth couldn't get the sight of those watery eyes as they looked back at her out of her mind, and how she longed to have taken his hand and fallen next to him. Kieran Duffy, the kindest soul she's ever known, had both saved her and Arthur's lives now.  
  
**It took her an hour to get back to camp.**  
  
The shaking woman passed the horse station and got off of Branwen, collapsing to the ground. Her hair was entirely loose, now falling out of its original curls. Dirt drenched her face and hands, and her skirt even got ripped from the  earlier turn. Various members of the camp ran to her and demanded what happened. She broke into crying and could only exclaim Kieran's name, pushing her hands to her face and giving short distressed outbursts. Arthur took the time to kneel down to her level, placing a hand on her back and whispering kindly for her to get her hands out of her face so she could talk coherently and breathe.  
  
As Mary-Beth shakily pulled her hands away, she looked in her palm to see a few drying flowers; the same ones Kieran put in his lapel early that morning.


	3. Who are Climbing Through the Light

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kieran is rescued and Arthur reveals a few secrets to Mary-Beth

**_Continued from Chapter 2_ ** ****_  
_ ****_  
_ On the acorn-colored dirt of Shady Belle, kneeled the partially-shaken form of Mary-Beth. In place at either one of her sides were Arthur and Miss Grimshaw, who had an equal hand on both shoulders.  
  
“What in God’s name did that boy do to you?” Miss Grimshaw demanded, taking Mary-Beth’s chin with her hand and trying to get her to say anything but Kieran’s name. “Dirtying up a young girl and getting away- We never should have let him in here in the first place!”  
  
Arthur spoke up, pointing his free hand at Grimshaw. “Let her talk, Susan. Girl’s in a state.”  
  
Mary-Beth took a couple minutes to calm herself and spoke gently. Her thoughts raced over the quick images of Kieran falling off of Branwen in sacrifice. “W-We went to Rhodes for work errands.” She started, raising a hand to Miss Grimshaw to hopefully get across to her that it wasn’t anything horrid. “We got...lost on the way back and ran into those goddamn O’Driscoll Boys.” She felt the tears spring up again but gave a sharp inhale and looked up in hopes of stopping the eventual waterworks.  
  
Arthur looked relieved that Kieran hadn’t physically harmed Mary-Beth in any way and still expressed concern at her injuries. He kneeled down to her level, giving a very courteous and well-meaning pat on the shoulder. “Well, what happened to Kieran, then?”  
  
“We tried to keep ‘em off our tail for a while so they wouldn’t come into camp b-but Kieran jumped off the horse and gave himself up so I c-could come back.” She said, hiding her face in her hands once again and her next words coming out incredibly muffled. “I don’t know what they’re gonna do to him.”  
  
Miss Grimshaw gave a heavy sigh and looked to Arthur who exchanged a just as worried look back. “Get yourself bathed then, Miss Gaskill. You clearly need some peace right now.” She stated, helping Mary-Beth get up. She gave disdain at the sight of the younger girl’s clothes and shook her head a little. “You’re going to have to find where we packed our sewing as well.”  
  
Arthur kept on kneeling where he was and watched the two women walk away in front of him. He raised a hand to scratch his beard a bit and lowered his eyebrows with racing thoughts in tow. He thought about how this meant Kieran could have been very well using this as a ploy to go tell the O’Driscolls everything, but then he also remembered the beaming smile of the man he went fishing with weeks ago- a man who couldn’t harm an entire creature. The rugged cowboy felt himself divided on what to do but got up to his feet and jogged on over in front of Mary-Beth. “How many were there?” He said, his loaded holsters clanking against his thighs as he hustled up to her.  
  
“Only five.” She said quickly, clearly unable to stop focusing on the memory.  
  
Arthur stopped her from walking any further and gave a very surly smile. “You think I can’t handle five of those bastards? You lead me to ‘em and we can get,” Arthur found himself using a new term, “ _our_ boy back.”  
  
Miss Grimshaw instantly forced her arm in-between the both of them. “You can leave AFTER Miss Gaskill is taken care of, Arthur.” She snapped, pushing the woman in front of her towards the tents. The older woman was then also heard giving nagging statements for minutes under the muffled canvas walls.  
  
Arthur just gave a thumbs up and found himself  standing there in awe, never quite thinking Mary-Beth would ever be at the former O’Driscoll’s side, for any kind of reason. He awkwardly swung his legs forward and left the girls to it.

* * *

  
A couple hours later, Arthur found himself leaning against the wall of the Shady Belle “mansion,” smoking a cigarette and looking out upon the gator-infested waters. He admittedly couldn’t get his mind off of everything Mary-Beth told him. He had a sincere admiration for the woman and loved how sunny she got towards the world; even at its worst. The _what-ifs_ didn’t plague his mind as much as his thoughts of Abigail or Mary Linton did, but, in his heart, he still hoped to see her with a good man. He was very unaware she may have finally found the fella in question.  
  
He then took a long drag on his cigarette, closing his eyes and now remembering how distraught Mary-Beth was only hours earlier. He had to do _something._ Admittedly, he had been away from camp for a while and wasn’t ready to reveal why. However, he finally understood the terrors of being away from someone that makes your existence worth fighting for. He and young Miss Gaskill were not alone in their own ways of suffering- and for once, he was wanting to fight against it.  
  
As his long contemplation continued, he saw the sun just beginning to set. Small, but cautious footsteps were heard behind him. “You...would be okay if we helped him, right?” A soft voice said and Arthur coughed almost immediately, taken off-guard.  
  
Mary-Beth stood next to him, her face blank and her hair all entirely let down, still damp at the very ends. She leaned back a bit when the burly man coughed up a storm but needed an answer.  
  
Arthur put his lighter in his pocket and sighed, flicking the cigarette butt to the ground. “I think I’d be paying a debt if I do. You know that O’Driscoll boy saved my life a couple months ago, yeah?” He scratched at his chin and looked down at her, bushy eyebrows furrowing down in recollection.  
  
Mary-Beth just nodded and gave a weak smile, clear strings of pain still in her eyes. “He wouldn’t stop talking about it that whole week. “  
  
Arthur immediately noticed the look in her eyes and tried to direct her towards the horses.

She shook her head at his lead and Arthur’s arm went back down to his side.“Wait- I’m sorry you had to see me _that way_ earlier. I’ve never been like this over, well,” she played with her hands shyly, “ _a man_ before. I do not want that to represent my character.” Her voice faltered and she clearly had a serious demeanor.  
  
He nodded cooly and looked down. “We show ourselves wildly when we lose the men,” he took a second to correct himself “- _and_ women we care about.” His head shot back up and he blinked a bit. “Let’s get going. And I think- I think we may want another party member for this.” He muttered.  
  
Mary-Beth frowned, playing with the hem of her blouse as Arthur looked around. “You are _very_ aware that I can handle myself.”  
  
Arthur’s mind became full of his own capture by the O’Driscolls and the infinite torture and sickness that came out of it and he shuttered, pulling in Mary-Beth close. “Now, I don’t care if you lost your arms and got shotgun replacements, when I say backup is needed- I am never kiddin’.”

The woman’s eyes went into unamused slits as she moved a few steps back. She crossed her arms slowly and cocked an eyebrow at Arthur. 

He gave a loud sigh and turned his back onto her, looking around the camp. His eyes finally settled on Charles who was sitting by the fire talking to Javier. Arthur trudged on forward, taking the woman along with him. Mary-Beth just widened her eyes, huffed, and put her hands up innocently.  
  
“Charles.” Arthur stated, standing in front of the man and ending whatever conversation was at hand.  
  
“Arthur,” a swift voice replied.  
  
“It’s a mighty fine night for a rescue mission, ain’t it?”  
  
“Just tell me what you want, Morgan.” Charles said, with a cold, yet somehow poised stare.  
  
“Kieran got taken by the O’Driscoll Boys and I’d only trust our best scout with it.” Arthur said, offering an incredibly corny smile and opening his hands up excitedly.  
  
Charles went quiet for a long manner of minutes, eventually put his finger to his chin in thought, and then gave a singular nod.  
  
Mary-Beth gave a silent clap and Arthur gestured for them to walk on over to the horse station. Javier gave a comedic look as Charles left him mid-conversation, sitting alone by the campfire. He picked up his guitar and began playing as the three of them headed out of the marsh of Lemoyne; weapons and a single shared lantern in hand.

* * *

 

  
It took a long while riding horseback, consistent backtracking, and the reliance of Mary-Beth’s own moderately-accurate memory to finally scope out Kieran’s location. The low croaking of various frogs and the audible hum of the summer cicadas and mosquitoes helped bring in an unthought unease. The three knew they were in the right area when a small campfire glowed through the dark moor; loud, drunken, and inappropriate wails crying out into the night. That was a guaranteed sign of any O’Driscoll hideout.  
  
Arthur slowly signaled for everyone to get off of their horse, and he hit the ground with a very light thud. He pulled out his binoculars silently from his bag and tried to scope out what he could. Through the lenses he saw the correct amount of men, five, standing around the campfire and generally messing around. He noted boxes of liquor, shoddy makeshift tents, and a few very tense horses. Arthur messed with the dials on his device to zoom in further and noticed a body lying on the ground next to the camp. He bit his tongue instantly to stop from making a comment, and hurriedly put his binoculars back into his satchel. He gave a worried look down to Mary-Beth and then to Charles, who slowly removed his bow from his back.  
  
A small clinking noise was heard as Arthur pulled out his own set of throwing knives, giving his wrist a few gentle flicks for good practice measure. Charles aimed his bow straight for the head of the least-moving O’Driscoll and let go, the flight sound of the arrow gallant before it shot into the skull of the local maverick. Arthur licked his lips and proceeded to throw one of his knives at the calve of another O’Driscoll, then throwing another straight into the man’s throat. The remaining three rivals took out their guns and shot into the darkness, bullets whizzing past the Van Der Linde members. Mary Beth slunk low into the tall grasses, and walked to her left, trying to maneuver around the camp unnoticed.  
  
Arthur took out a Springfield Rifle and got two clear shots on the men in front of them, watching their bodies crumble down and move as they succumbed to death. The final shot came from Charles, a stowaway shotgun shell clean to the chest of the last victim, his scream fading with the rest of the lives of his former gang.  
  
Arthur and Charles hustled over to Mary-Beth who was at the body of Kieran. She put a hand to his neck and another hand at his wrist, and her eyes lit up as she felt a pulse. “I reckon he’s been knocked clean out.” Her voice was jovial and she brushed against what were clearly bruises and cuts from possible interrogations hours earlier. Her fingers stopped at his chin where she noted the most amount of beatings going to his face. She went silent and kept his head propped up over her leg while she called over for Charles or Arthur to get water.  
  
Charles came hustling back within minutes, his canteen sloshing with ice-cold water from a local bog while Arthur was using ripped scraps of his bandana to dress Kieran’s freshly bleeding wounds. The abundantly-strong man slid over and poured the clear liquid on Kieran’s face, who, as expected, woke in an instant, coughing and sitting up at once. His light eyes blinked at those around him, but winced at his wounds within seconds. Arthur smiled up at him, tipping his hat, and Charles even offered a small smile and a nod. But the former O’Driscoll saw the gleaming face of Mary-Beth just next to him, and without reason or explanation, brought her into a kiss.  
  
Mary-Beth accepted it without a single bit of discomfort and her face was burning as they both pulled away, slowly. The couple then fell silent as Arthur and Charles pondered at them, and an awkward air filled the swamps for the next actions.  
  
The bodies of the O’Driscolls were looted and disposed of in understandable distaste. Any possible intel on the Van Der Lindes or Kieran’s involvement was tossed into the fire, and Kieran, while struggling to stay on both of his feet, got the stationed horses to flee out into the wilderness. Nobody talked until Arthur walked to Kieran, helping him stand a bit better. “Dutch is goin’ to have the time of his life with you.” Arthur mentioned coldly, watching Kieran nod hesitantly. “He suuuure don’t like when his boys get in the wrong hands.” Kieran laughed nervously, hunching a bit, but Arthur gave him a playful pat to the least sore part of his back.  
  
Charles swooped in on the back of his horse Taima, and gave Kieran a hefty lift onto her. “I’m going to escort him back to camp right away for these injuries and get a report to Dutch. Make sure the area is clean.”  
  
Arthur nodded and Mary-Beth just grinned widely and gave her new-found love a little wave; which he happily copied back. The remaining two watched as the horse sped off into the forest and another silence fell.  
  
Arthur gave Mary-Beth a playful nudge with his elbow and she shoved him just a bit. “You got eyes for _Kieran?”_ The cowboy said, with hints of jest in his voice.  
  
The woman next to him looked around for any last traces of an ambush taking place and just rolled her eyes. “Yes, Arthur. It’s hard for me not to when the fella treats me so kindly.” She picked up a brass pocketwatch, shaking it to her ear and noting it was still ticking. “If you’d been around camp more, I was gonna bring it up to ya.” She sifted through more of the dirt and found a silver ring, screwing it onto her thumb.  
  
Arthur put his hands to his hips and looked up. “Don’t you start- I don’t need a thrashing from another Grimshaw-type.” He bore his teeth as he spoke. “I’ve been busy. I’ve had my time taken up by others.”  
  
“Not the camp?” Mary-Beth suggested solemnly, giving a light shrug before looking back down. “You’re not too good for us, Mr. Morgan.”  
  
“Mary-Beth,” he started, walking to her and standing parallel. “I’ve found someone of my _own._ ” He put his hands to his chest as he said the last word, before they fell back down to his sides. “Maybe- Maybe I have let it take over our own family back home. But it ain’t serious. I ain’t never turning my back on you lot. This has just been something I been needin’ for a while.” He shuffled over to his horse, Hollyhock, giving her a light set of pats as he looked at Mary-Beth, giving a look that suggested they give this up.  
  
Mary-Beth got to her feet, taking Branwen by the reins and hoisting herself onto his saddle. “I’m happy for you, Arthur.” She said, calmly, watching as he took lead in riding back to the camp. “This must be why Mary hadn’t written you in so long.”  
  
Arthur blinked and adjusted his lantern for them both to see a bit better. “Miss Linton and I aren’t on...speakin’ terms at the moment. She’s left country entirely.”  
  
Mary-Beth’s heart hurt a bit for Arthur but she looked forward. “I’m sorry, that did seem eventual. Who’s this new lucky lady?”  
  
He fell mute and dodged the question. “I ain’t certain you would wanna know.” His reply came a bit sharply, and he regret leaving it on that kind of tone. “You would have to- keep a promise to me.”  
  
She felt confused and instructed Branwen to move a bit quicker. “Alright, Arthur.”  
  
He gave a sharp inhale and put a hand to his forehead for a bit, but moved his head slightly to the left to speak to her in a low and honest tone. “ _His name is Albert._ ”  
  
Mary-Beth’s eyes widened and she couldn’t, admittedly, react. It was definitely a surprising confession and it wasn’t making her think any less of the man riding alongside her. Yet, she wouldn’t ever imagine big, burly, Arthur Morgan, courting a man. She saw him consistently bloodied with pelts and bullet wounds and with any form of tobacco in his mouth- but, most people found that a little attractive, right? She finally spoke. “You have my word. I guess I owe you then- Promise you won’t tell the gang about Kieran and I’s little, er, connection?”  
  
Arthur gave a laugh, his nerves still unable to calm down from his previous revelation. “Sure thing. Ain’t worried about Charles?”  
  
Mary-Beth snorted loudly. “If Charles chose to talk about _anything_ .”  
  
The two friends laughed, learning more than needed for the night as they rode into the camp.

* * *

  
  
Mary-Beth made sure the horses were hitched as Arthur sluggishly walked to bed. She passed the sleeping forms of most of her comrades and found Kieran awake, eating stew around the campfire, fresh bandages around his back and arms. She sat down next to him automatically, her head falling perfectly into the crook of his neck. Her arm snuck up around one of his and she gave a soft yawn. Kieran leaned in and placed a gentle and incredibly nervous kiss to her forehead in response. “Remember the talk earlier when you said you ‘aren’t a good person?’” He offered.  
  
She nodded her head, her eyes closing slowly with tiredness.  
  
“With each day,” Kieran said softly, putting his empty bowl down, “you prove to me it _ain’t_ true. I don’t want to talk about it all now, but I reckon, you were my guardian angel back there.”  
  
Mary-Beth always had a talent in noticing when people smiled-without having to look at them. And it was in the multiple mellow exhales of his words, that she could tell he was smiling with each one said. “I can’t really assure you that.” She joked, sleepily, her other arm snaking in to hold him closer. “I just had to do somethin’ to get you here again.”  
  
He chuckled gently, finding his own slightly-shaking hand resting onto her back. “You know- this would make for a good story. Maybe, with a little less-” He looked at his wounds which were luckily no longer bleeding, “-firefight.”  
  
She gave a very soft and dreamy chuckle, clearly beginning to fall asleep onto him. Kieran slowly got up, helping her up by the hand and leading her to the ladies tent. She followed along with slow footsteps and the occasional lack-of-rest noise. He made sure she was lying down and warm and took her hand, holding it to his cheek. “Thank you kindly for all you do, Mary-Beth.” He whispered, returning her hand to her side.  
  
She gave him a happy look through half-lidded eyes. “Sleep wonderfully, you gentle soul, you.” She stated, before bringing her eyes to a close. Kieran got up, minding his own wounds and began to prepare in his mind everything he would tell Dutch. He promptly leaned against the side of the Shady-Belle house, heard the owls of the night finish their own conversations- and this was all before he too- became the newest passenger of sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A major story edit was done to correct Branwen's pronouns from female to male as I was unaware before. :')


End file.
